Back in Britain
by Princess Hannah
Summary: When Jack reutrns home to London, what is he in for? Will his parents even be happy to have him home? Contains some spoilers. Rated Kplus for mild violence.
1. Jack Returns Home

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! Yes, believe it or not, here's another non-Crystal-Journeys Lord-of-the-Flies-based fic. And, just like last time, it was originally a Reading class assignment. It takes place after the boys have gotten back to England. It's also a one-shot, so this is all you get. I don't own anything. Enjoy!

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Jack sat quietly as the car rolled down the streets of London. He wasn't really dreading anything, but he wasn't looking forward to anything either. He knew what was going to happen when he got home. His parents had already been informed of his actions on the island. Ralph had gotten off easy. The Navy ship that had rescued them had been in close contact with his father's vessel. Jack recalled vividly, more vividly than he would like, Ralph throwing himself into his father's arms and quickly explaining what had happened. When they had left, Jack could see Ralph's father congratulating his son for his perseverance and bravery. "…make a fine Navy man…" was all Jack could precisely recall of his words.

"Nearly there, Master Jack," said the driver. Jack looked at himself in the thin reflection of the window. He didn't look a _total_ mess, he had been cleaned up on the ship. His house, prim and proper, came into view. His parents were waiting at the door, his father holding a cane in one hand. They stopped. The driver got out and opened the door for Jack. Looking expressionless, Jack exited the car. His father strode briskly over to them.

"Thank you, Bartholomew," he said to the driver before turning and grabbing Jack roughly around the arm. "Come along, boy," he said gruffly, pulling Jack inside. He was clutching the cane very tightly in his hand.


	2. The Master of His Life

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! OMFG, I never, really, NEVER imagined that this fic would become a hit. 4 reviews in 2 days and 3 of them wanted MORE. Wow. For some reason, I'm not that happy about it. I guess I just wish Raikov's Story got that much attention. I like it better. I'll admit that this isn't really a fic I WANTED to write, because I'm not that fond of writing outside The Crystal Journeys. Buuuuuuuuuuuut…if you guys want it…here ya go. I don't own anything. Enjoy!

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"_SAVAGE ON AN ISLAND! KILLING OTHER BOYS! FIRST IT WAS THE NEIGHBOR'S DOGS AND NOW THIS! THIS IS WHY WE SENT YOU AWAY, BOY! **THIS IS WHY WE SENT YOU AWAY!**_"

Jack's father, Earnest Merridew, was striking his son repeatedly with his cane. Bright red bruise marks were visible all over his body. Jack showed no sign of resistance. Some time later, the cane finally broke in two. His face purple with rage, Earnest threw the remains at Jack's head, who instinctively ducked. He reached over to Jack, seized him by his hair, dragged him up the stairs, threw him into his room, and slammed the door so hard that some plaster flakes fell from the ceiling. Jack sighed.

His father's beatings never stopped until the cane broke.

Jack got up, limped over to his closet and opened it. He took the stone on a string that he kept around the door handle and carved another tally into the back of the closet door.

He was counting the beatings. He had just reached 92.

Jack went over to his bed and lay down in it for the first time in over a year. He knew that any normal boy would be as giddy as a puppy with a ball to be back home after a year of Catholic school and a month or so stranded on an island, but he wasn't. He had been relieved to have been accepted chief over Ralph after their big feast. For once, _he_ had been the one making decisions. It felt good. _Really _good. He had _never_ been allowed to make his own decisions, and on that island, he had, for the first time in his life, been the master of himself. Conscious thought began to escape him and he found his memories drifting back to when he was 7 years old.

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"Boy," said his father "I've got news for you. You're going to Monsieur LaPelle's house for French lessons, starting tomorrow." 

"But I don't want to learn French!" Jack had protested "I want to…" This was followed by a swift blow from the cane.

"Life isn't about what you want," Earnest bellowed "It's about what you have to have! You _have_ to have a good education, and to get into a good school, you need to know foreign language! Therefore, _you…are…learning…French! _Now, go to your room!" Another blow from the cane.

"Yes, _master_," Jack muttered sarcastically under his breath. His father heard him.

He smiled broadly at the title.

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Rapid footfalls were making their way up the stairs and Jack snapped back to reality. Someone knocked on the door.

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_Sometimes I make characters who are just so nasty that you have NO sympathy for them whatsoever. Also, I'm in a kinda pissed mood tonight. Let me put it this way: 14-year-olds on Weight Watchers (I AM NOT FAT. I could just stand to lose a few pounds, which I have been) should be allowed to get at least ONE THING when their school has TWO BAKE SALES IN A ROW. Eh, I'm gonna get a little something anyway. It's a fund-raiser for our 8th Grade Prom.  
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	3. Mother Merridew Dearest

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! I don't believe it…I DO NOT BELIEVE IT. Star Wars Episode III comes out today, AND I **STILL** HAVEN'T UPDATED THOUSAND KNIGHTS IN WEEKS! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME? Well, you guys seem to like this fic more than I do, so here's the next chapter. Amazing that I even had time to type it, what with my impossibly busy schedule. You know the drill. Enjoy!

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"Yes?" said Jack "Come in." The door slowly opened. It was Pauline Merridew, Jack's mother. When she was sure he was in the room alone, she rushed in and immediately began to treat her son's wounds.

"Good heavens, Jack," she said "After all these years of beating you to mold you into what _he_ wants, your father _still_ hasn't learned that he can't break you with a cane."

"Depends on how you define 'break'," said Jack "His beatings've landed me in the hospital twice." His mother sighed.

"Yes, I know," she said "But you know, he only wants what's best for you, darling."

"Exactly!" said Jack "His idea of 'what's best for me' is molding me into what _he_ wants me to be! You just said it yourself! I've never gotten a say in my own life until I was stranded out on that God-forsaken island. I almost didn't want to leave."

"Well," said Pauline "When I married your father, he took control of my life just like _that_." She snapped her fingers. "It was always 'Pauline, darling, you mustn't do _this_' or 'Pauline, darling, you can't eat _that_'…"

"Then _why on EARTH_," said Jack, forcing as much air as he could into every word "Do you still put up with him? Why do you even _live _with him anymore?" His mother paused and slowly put her cloth down.

"It's because of you, Jack," she said. Jack raised an eyebrow. Had she used a more forceful tone of voice, he would be feeling very guilty right now. "The only _real_ reason I married your father in the first place is because…well…I was carrying you and I knew who the father was and I couldn't raise you alone so I…asked him to marry me so we could raise you together. I'll admit that not a day has gone by when I haven't questioned my decision…Oh well…it's not of any importance at this instance. You'd better get to bed, Jack. We have church first thing tomorrow morning." She left.

"Goodnight, mum," said Jack as she shut the door. He didn't know how he slept so soundly that night when his parent's words kept echoing in his head like the flies that had buzzed about the pig's head on the island.

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_For a little bit, I was worried that this might turn into Jack's MOTHER'S story, but I'll be putting the main focus on Jack next chapter. This might turn out to be his AND his mother's story by the end of the fic. Who knows…_


	4. The Wise Words of Reverend Fox

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! Well, you people want it, so here it is. More stuff. I know I talk about God a lot in this chapter and I just want to make clear that I'm not a very religious person (in fact, I think the only real holidays my family celebrate anymore are Christmas and Thanksgiving). You JUST MIGHT BE seeing an increase in updates soon because I've only got 3 or 4 days of school left. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Anyhoo, you know the drill. Enjoy.

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Dressed in Sunday best, Jack and his parents sat quietly in the car as Bartholomew drove them to church. Pauline decided to break the silence.

"It certainly is wonderful to have the whole family back together for church," she said.

"Indeed, Miss," said Bartholomew "And I'm sure Reverend Fox will be delighted to see young Master Jack home safe and sound."

"Yes," said Jack, smiling for the first time that morning "I miss your brother's sermons."

"Well, you won't have to wait much longer," said Bartholomew "We're here." The church was a grand old place. The light pouring in from the stained glass windows would cast the dull mass of church-goers in swathes of all sorts of colors on a sunny day. This just happened to be one of those days. Jack sat right in the middle of the bright yellow sunburst above the Virgin Mary with his parents on either side of him. The organist began playing and the room went silent.

Reverend Bartemius Fox was a kindly figure. Young in face and heart, no one would guess that he was in his late 40's. He knew and loved all the church children like his own; Jack, he had known all his life. In fact, Reverend Fox had baptized him. Jack had come to view Reverend Fox as a kindly uncle figure. The day's sermon was about recognizing the will of God, a subject which had Jack making repeated mental references to the island. Ralph being chosen chief, had _that _been the will of God? The deadly dance at the feast that, in the end, killed Simon, had _that_ been the will of God? Was _anything_ truly the will of God? Before Jack knew it, the service was over. Many people went over to talk to Reverend Fox about his sermon. Jack and his parents joined this crowd.

"…Yes, well I'm sure if you just give them a few more days they'll…" Reverend Fox stopped in the middle of his sentence. His eye had just caught Jack. "Jack?" he gasped "Jack Merridew? Good Lord, it _is_ you!" Jack smiled, meekly. Reverend Fox gestured towards him. "Come, I'd like to see you in my office." He led Jack away from the crowd and towards a small room near the back of the church. Reverend Fox shut the door.

"Um…"

"_Praise the Lord, Jack! You're alive!_" Reverend Fox practically screamed, scooping the boy into a tight hug.

"Yes…Reverend…" said Jack "I'm…alive…and…you're…crushing me…" Reverend Fox froze, examined his position, let go of Jack, and regained his proper composure. He cleared his throat. "Goodness…terribly sorry, Jack…got a little carried away."

"You've got good reason," said Jack "I don't blame you."

"Ah, yes," said Reverend Fox, going into his usual, serious "church voice" "The Lord spoke of this to me: one of my children would come back from a long, long journey and approach me to speak of his experience and, in the end, fulfill his…" Jack's mind wandered in disinterest for a moment while Reverend Fox went on a short rant about redemption and lessons from God. As fond as Jack was of Reverend Fox, it was his supposed "talks with God" that really drove some people up the wall. When he was done, he turned to Jack and sat down. "So, tell me, my son," he said "What became of you that your presence here has been nonexistent for the past month?"

Taking a deep breath, Jack told his tale. When he finished, Reverend Fox looked as though he had just finished the most exciting mystery book ever written. There was a short silence which was follow by the two simple words:

"I see."

"So," said Jack "What do you think God has to do with _this_ one?" Reverend Fox stared off into space for a moment before answering.

"Your experience on the island showed you what savagery, domination, really looked like. You have had a secret desire for that kind of life ever since you were born, or more, ever since you could contemplate your father's behavior with you. Now that you have seen this life, is it _really _what really want?" Jack was silent for a long while.

"No. No it isn't."

"Exactly," said Reverend Fox "It's not your fault that you wished to return to a more primal state of human existence. In fact, I believe that most of us really want to break free of our current lives and live as you did. But that's not my point. My point is, now that you have seen the true nature of the most _extreme_ case of the life you wanted and have decided that it's not what you _really_ wanted, you must do something about the _source_ of this desire. I am, of course, referring to your father."

"But what should I do?" said Jack "What _can_ I do?" Reverend Fox looked at him solemnly.

"Jack, my boy," he said "I believe that there is a reason beyond your father's 'beliefs' that is causing him to act this way towards you and your mother. You must find out what this is and stop it. If, however, your father is beyond redemption, which I fear may be turn out to be the case…" he clasped the cross around his neck in his hand "Your father…maybe have to be done away with, in the name of the Lord."

"What?" said Jack "Kill my own father? Are you mad, Reverend?"

"Relax, Jack," said Reverend Fox "You won't have to kill anyone. Trust me. Trust the Lord." He glanced up at the clock. "You'd best be going. Good luck on your mission, Jack." Jack smiled, nodded, turned around, and secretly rolled his eyes at the word "mission". Before he reached the door, he stopped and turned to Reverend Fox.

"Reverend Fox," he said "After what I did…am…_I_ beyond redemption?" Reverend Fox just smiled.

"You have already been redeemed, my son," he said.

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_I am SO GLAD I got all that "reason for savagery" stuff written down while I still had it fresh in my head. Usually, that stuff comes to me at the most inconvenient moments and when I finally write it down, it comes out crappy. REALLY crappy. An interesting side-note: Bartholomew and Reverend Fox are named after two obscure Crystal Journeys characters. In The Crystal Journeys, their last name is "Furtree" but I changed it to "Fox" for this story because in TCJ, they're fox E-Maxens. Don't worry, I won't go into any confusing backstory because that's all you need to know about them. _


	5. Konichiwa! Quirky Little Kieu

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! Yes, I know, it's been a long while for you to wait for an update. But, you've been patient, and I applaud patience. (clapclapclapclapclap) Anyway, I think the main source of my writer's block is the temperature in the computer room (it can get hot, even with 2 fans on). And to think, a few months ago you could be walking up the stairs to get here and about 3/4's of the way up, the top half of your body would be 5 degrees colder than the lower half. I'm not kidding. Anyway, this chapter introduces a new character (MINE) who, I can safely say, is wholly derivative of the sweet/naïve/quirky stereotype. And I'm proud of that. You know the drill. Enjoy!

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When Jack and family returned home, Pauline looked around, obviously keeping her eye out for someone.

"I wonder if any of the neighbors are out today," she said "It's been forever since Jack has seen anyone from around h…"

"Yes, you're absolutely right!" boomed Earnest "After everything the boy's been through, he needs interaction with his more…_civilized_ man." He glared harshly at Jack as he drew out the word "civilized". There was a brief silence, then…

"_Jackiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_" Jack nearly had the wind knocked out of him as the energetic little thing rammed into his stomach. "_Konichiwa! Konichiwa! _You're back! You're back!" Now, it was bouncing up and down. Pauline's eyes lit up.

"Why, hello Kieu!" she said sweetly to the little girl who's hands were firmly clamped around Jack. "_Konichiwa_!" Kieu finally released Jack (_That's the SECOND TIME TODAY that someone's tried to squeeze me to death!_), turned to Pauline and bowed.

"Hello, missus Merr-a-du," she said. Earnest sighed.

"Well, I guess she'll have to do," he said "Good dose of innocence." He rounded on Jack "Boy, play with Kieu." He started towards the house "But I want to see you _with other neighborhood friends today_!" He went inside, slamming the door behind him.

"As if I _have_ any neighborhood friends," Jack muttered under his breath. He looked at Kieu who was smiling at him with wide, eager eyes. Kieu Shimomura and her family were from Japan. They had moved to England not long after the Hiroshima bombing. All Kieu could remember about the first time she'd seen London was her older brother, Kura, saying to their mother "But this city is as war-torn as our homeland! Why have we come here and not to America?" and her mother simply responding "America will not take us.". The family had been learning English well and were able to interact normally with British society. This was also helped by the fact that Earnest, who was a gentlemen with just about everyone _except_ his own family, was their next-door neighbor.

"It's so fun to have you back, Jack!" Kieu babbled "Hey! Back, Jack! That rhymes! Yay!"

"Six-year-olds," said Jack "Yes, Kieu, that does rhyme." He sat down on the stoop, looking expressionless. Kieu's energetic smile faded. She sat down next to Jack, looking concerned.

"Jack," she said "You're never happy. Why are you never happy?" Jack didn't want to say anything. He _really_ didn't want to say anything, but, somehow, Kieu's curious charm wound up getting the better of him. To his astonishment, he ended up telling her everything. Everything. When he finished, he wondered why in hell he did it. Then, it occurred to him, simply, that Kieu had never asked before. Or, maybe he had just discovered a new side to himself. Was he more open than he had once thought?

"So, your daddy's mean to you, huh?" said Kieu.

"That's putting it mildly," said Jack. Kieu stared at him bankly for a moment and it was obvious that she didn't understand what that meant. She got over it quite fast, though.

"Then why don't you and your mommy _do_ something about it?" Jack laughed, both at the way Kieu emphasized "do" and the fact that a six-year-old was giving someone twice her age advice. Also the fact that it might just be good advice.

"Kieu," he said "I know what Reverend Fox said, but he's my _father_. What can _I_ do against _him_?"

"You can do what my daddy says people do all the time!" said Kieu "_Tatakawa nakerebanaranai_! _Hangyakusha_!" Now it was Jack's turn to sit blankly at a statement he didn't understand. Because Kieu was being raised bilingual, she would sometimes shift from one language to another without warning. Fortunately, she always recognized when this happened. She cleared her throat "Sorry," she said "What I meant to say was 'You have to fight! Rebel!'."

"Rebel? Oh no," said Jack "Last time I did that, the whole thing nearly blew up in my face." Jack stopped to listen to himself. Last time, he had been leading a rebellion for an unjust cause. This time, it was different, as Kieu was about to point out.

"This isn't last time!" she said "This is……not-last time!"

"I'll think about it," said Jack. He would. He really would. Kieu clapped her hands together.

"Okay!" she said "So, what'er we gonna play? Ooo! I know! I know what we can do!" Kieu jumped up and down as she said this. When she stopped, she pulled a couple pieces of paper out of her pocket. "It's called 'oragami'!" she said "_Onii-chan_ told me how to do it when I was small."

"_Onii-chan_?"

"'Brother'."

_Her brother, Kura,_ thought Jack. Kura had been called off to fight in the war not long after the family had moved to England. Jack wondered if he and Kura would have become friends if he hadn't left. "I guess this makes you feel closer to him, huh?" said Jack.

"_Hai_," she said, meaning "yes" "We haven't heard from him in a long time." Then, abruptly changing the subject "C'mon! I'll show you how to make a boat!" The two of them sat outside, folding, and occasionally making small talk. By the time Jack had finished his boat, Pauline was calling "Jack, darling! Lunch is ready!" which was quickly followed by "Get inside, boy!" Jack got up.

"I have to go, Kieu," said Jack "I'll see ya later."

"_Sayonara_!" said Kieu "This would've been more fun if Shadow and Nami were still here!" Jack stopped just short of the door. Shadow and Nami had been the Shimomura's dogs. As Kieu's mother called her in for lunch, he mulled over the fact that he had been the one who had killed them. Kieu didn't know that.

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_So many fics I've written with foreign language snippets and this is the first time I've bothered to use an online translator. For next time, all I really need to do REMEMBER MY ETHICS. When I forget, that's when I get my worst writer's block. When I try to write during these phases (which I almost never do), the finished product usually sucks. And now you know. Just as a side-note about Kieu and Kura, yes, their names (and Kieu's personality) were taken from obscure Crystal Journeys characters. Yes, they were also changed to humans for this (in TCJ, they're Elvinoids. Anyone who's read my The __Legend of the Thousand Knights knows what I'm talking about). And, yes, their last name (Shadowlancer) was also changed. Also, in case you were wondering, Kieu's name is pronounced "kee-YU". As for my next update…I have Summer School coming up in a few days, so, be patient, my young Padawans… _


	6. Tucker Wayne, the Boy Next Door

_Disclaimers 'n' crap: Haihai peeps! I finished this last night, and now it's the next day. I'm sitting up here in the computer room, next to my dad, on his 50th birthday, with the file for his present open on the taskbar, listening to the opening theme from MGS 2, after only getting about 5 or 6 hours of sleep, and watching a crapload of Naruto. So…yeah. Sorry for the long wait. I've been preoccupied with stuff, namely school, and my grandma's death, and (as of very soon) KOTOR (yeah, I got it for Christmas! ). All I can say about this chapter is: talking, backstory, DC comics references. I own everyone except Jack. Enjoyz!

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After a good, hearty lunch, Jack went back outside and sat on the stoop again. For about 10 minutes, he sat and waited for Kieu. Then it occurred to him that she wouldn't be out for another few hours. Her lunches on Sunday were followed by her weekly English lesson. Jack sighed at this realization. Kieu wasn't that bad, now that he'd spent some decent time with her. Actually, she would've been an entertaining addition to the crew stranded on the island. He heard the front door open behind him and his heart jumped. Fortunately, it was only his mother.

"Thought about who you wanted to spend the afternoon with?" she said. Jack shook his head.

"No, not really," he said "I was thinking about Kieu, but then I remembered that she has her English lessons today."

"So, you had fun with her this morning?" said Pauline, with that hint of a mother's see-didn't-I-tell-you? voice.

"I _guess_ you could put it that way," said Jack, a little sheepishly. He pulled the boat from his pocket. "She taught me a bit of origami…I guess that's kind of neat." Pauline studied the simple paper craft in her son's hands and beamed.

"I think it's lovely," she said, then, leaning in "You'd better not show that to your father. He might get a bit ticked."

"That I did what he said and played around with a little Japanese girl?" said Jack, confused.

"Noooo…" said Pauline "That you made a water vehicle out of paper." Jack got the gist now. He nodded.

"So, what do you reckon I should do for the rest of the afternoon that's in compliance with General I'm-Your-Father-Do-What-I-Say's orders?" said Jack. Pauline laughed and then went right to thinking.

"Hmm…" she said, looking up and down the block. Jack tried to follow her eye movement. A breeze blew and the soft notes of a wind chime glided down the street. Pauline turned to the source, hanging from the concrete awning of the house next door. She smiled.

"Oooooohhhhhh nooooo," said Jack, shaking his head slowly "Not…"

"Tucker Wayne?" said Pauline, still smiling, a bit more mischievously now "Why not?"

"He's a spoiled, rich brat!" Jack spat out "He and I _never_ got along when we were young, his mum was one of the cheekiest people I've _ever_ met, he's _so_ proud of his dad just because he's got the same name as some American comic book superhero's secret identity, and, let's face it, _I _have more regard for people's feelings than he does!" Pauline was silent for a moment before doubling over with laughter. Jack's eye widened. "Who's side are you _on_?" he gasped. Pauline composed herself.

"Sorry, Jack," she said "It was just that last statement…anyway, yes, I know that you two were quite the poisonous pair in your earlier youth, and I quite agree that his mother was one of the worst excuses for a woman I've ever seen." She sighed heavily "With all that wine she drank, I personally would've been astonished if she'd died in anything _other_ than a car accident."

"Ramming headlong into another vehicle while you're drunk counts as an accident?" said Jack with a mixture of sarcasm, exasperation, and puzzlement. Pauline glared at him.

"Don't joke, Jack," she said "This is a serious issue. Anyway, where was I…ah yes…his father…" She was suddenly smiling again. "You know, Jack, if I had really given myself a choice about who I married, I would have married him." Jack was in shock now.

"You're…kidding…" he breathed. Pauline was still smiling.

"No, I'm quite serious," she said "I know that Tucker's a bit obnoxious with his raves about how his father is 'named after Batman', but really, Bruce is a good man. We were in close dormitories at the University. Actually, he was in the same room as your father. That's how I met both of them, before your father became more of the beast he is today. But that's besides the topic. My point is, I know you and Tucker have never gotten along, but you also haven't talked to each other in a long time. Who knows? Maybe you'll have more in common now that you're both older. You have more things to talk about." Jack groaned.

"Mum, does it _have_ to be him?" he complained. Pauline gave him a more traditional stern, motherly look.

"Do _you _have any better ideas?" she said. Jack was silent. "I didn't think so." Then she was silent. "Why don't I talk to your father about this and ask him if this 'other neighborhood friends' thing can wait until his big dinner party tomorrow night? You and Tucker can talk then." Now, Jack was more concerned about his mother than meeting Tucker.

"Why don't _I_ talk to him?" said Jack. Pauline shook her head.

"No, Jack," she said "You're in enough trouble with your father already. I wouldn't want him doing anything to you on the Lord's day. _I'll _talk to him." She started back inside.

"Mother, _please_!" said Jack, running to her side. They turned and looked at each other and, simultaneously:

"I don't want him to hurt you!"

There was silence following this. Pauline, too moved to react to her son, strode inside, apparently on the verge of tears. Jack's knees felt weak. If his father did anything to his mother, it would be because he hadn't been able to stop her. Wait…maybe there was still time. Maybe, if he could just pick up his feet and rush inside, he could stop her. But his feet wouldn't move.

_I don't want him to hurt you_

Was that the core of it all? Were both he _and_ his mother afraid of his father? He had never looked at it that way before. It had always seemed like they had just lived with it. Why did it feel so different now? Maybe because they were actually sitting down and discussing it.

Jack heard the door of the Wayne house open and a voice calling "Hello there, Jack!" Jack turned his head. It was Bruce. Jack waved back and said "Hey."

"Is your mother around?" said Bruce, looking oddly hopeful.

"No, sorry," said Jack "She's inside, talking with father." He noticed a bitterness in his mouth that came up with the word "father". Bruce suddenly looked part disappointed, part worried.

"Oh…well…" he said, apparently searching for the right response "Tell her I dropped by and said 'hi', will you?" He was smiling awkwardly now.

"Sure," said Jack "Have a good day, Mr. Wayne." He waved. Bruce waved back and started off down the street.

_Mum's right,_ said Jack _Mr. Wayne really isn't anything like his son. _His thoughts were interrupted by a few loud, indistinguishable noises from inside the house. One sounded a little like his mother, the other like his father. Jack's stomach churned. He waited a few moments before entering the house. Everything was quiet. An eerie quiet. Jack took a few more steps inside before her heard something. Footsteps. Pauline entered the front hall nursing a bruise on her cheek. Jack just stood there. Pauline looked up at him.

"He wasn't happy about it," she said "But he agreed."

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_I had originally planned for Tucker to appear in this chapter, but then I changed my mind after Pauline had put all that dialogue forward. There just didn't seem to be an appropriate time for him to show up, so I'm merging the scenes where Jack and Tucker meet again and Earnest (censoredcensoredcensored). Still, no idea when I'll update next, but rest assured, I will not abandon this fic now! Also, a big thanx to all my loyal readers and reviews! You have no idea how much your support means to me _:D  



	7. The Dinner Party

_Well, faithful readers, you patience has paid off. Although, I'll be ASTOUNDED if anyone stuck around for the past 4 years, but for those of you who did: you are wonderful beautiful people. The main reason this update happened was because I've been reading this fic out loud in installments to my mom's writer's group at our spring barbecue every year, and last year I caught up to where I'd left off. So! I had to write more! And of course, I did it VERY late at night/early in the morning before. Still, I think my writing has improved a bit since then, although I tried to stay somewhat within the length that I had for previous chapters. But enough techno-chatter, here's the update!_

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For Jack, there was just something _wrong_ about being dressed in Sunday best on a Monday night. Didn't that defeat the whole purpose of it being called _Sunday_ best? Oh well, dressed in Sunday best he was. When his father hosted a dinner party, many stops were pulled out. Jack was hovering in the corner, idly watching the guests engaging in their various after-dinner activities and chatter. Most of them had spent their arrival time fawning intermittently over Jack, praising his return and his safety, and then thankfully got tired of it when the refreshments were served.

Tucker Wayne and his father were there, although Jack knew that it was only his own father's need to keep his public image in check that the Waynes had been invited at all. Earnest Merridew did not like Bruce Wayne, and, as much as it would amuse Jack, it had nothing to do with the whole "sharing a name with a comic book character" affair. Pauline had said that when she had first known them at the University, they were not only roommates but best friends. Now, a chill not unlike an approaching blizzard filled the room whenever the two were in close proximity. To Jack, it was a miracle that they were even living in the same city, much less neighboring houses. Had it not been for the "mission" placed upon him by Reverend Fox to discover the reasons for his father's harsh nature, Jack would have left the reasons behind Earnest's and Bruce's split-up a mystery.

Jack had spent the evening glancing over at Tucker occasionally, but still choosing to avoid direct contact. _I'll do it before the end of the night,_ he told himself _Help break the ice between us for tomorrow._ Tucker seemed to be acting the same, throwing the occasional glance over at him, but not appearing to want to engage in conversation. About five seconds after Jack had reflected on this, it became moot.

"W-what ho, Merridew!" The voice bounced out of nowhere and hit Jack slightly upside the head. He turned to face its origin.

"Hu…llo, Tucker?" mumbled Jack, trying to simultaneously process Tucker's sudden materialization at his side and the fact that he was even speaking to him at all. Now that they were looking each other in the face properly, they could drink in the differences that had befallen the other in the year since they had last met. Jack couldn't help but notice that Tucker's eyes held a curious glint in them. What was that? Was it fear? Was it reverence? Not that Jack had ever paid much attention to his next-door-nemesis's eyes before, but he couldn't help but notice that there was something…_new_ there. He also seemed to be fidgeting slightly in small motions akin to a child who has just been asked to recite a poem they memorized and is trying desperately to remember the next line while they are speaking the previous line.

"I…heard about your adven...what happened to you…" he said, still sounding like he was reciting something "And I would just like to extend…my deepest…deepest…"

_Oh, wonderful,_ thought Jack. _His dad's probably given him a sympathy speech to say to me. As if I need any more of THAT._

But that wasn't where this was going.

"Oh, Christ, I can't do this here…" Tucker suddenly seized Jack by the forearm and pulled him into an empty sideroom. There, he straightened himself again and _bowed_. "Jack Merridew, I'm so deeply terribly sorry for all the hurt and the tussling we've done in the past…" he came upright again to look Jack in the face "…and I thought you should know that I've grown up a lot since those days because fighting is barbaric and childlike and we're going to gentlemen some day so we might as well start being sophisticated while we're young and can be told what we're doing, so here I am: Tucker Ponsomby Reginald Wayne, extending my hand to you in friendship despite our differences, Mr. Jack I'm-so-sorry-I've-forgotten-your-middle-names Merridew!"

Jack stared. Then he began to laugh, not just because of the silly delivery of Tucker's speech, but because he had realized a few things just by listening to it. Jack didn't need Tucker to tell him that fighting was barbaric; he'd seen it himself. _Real_ fighting, too. Not just this boys-will-be-boys child's play from their younger days. Also, he recognized at last what that new glint in Tucker's eyes was, for he had heard it lacing the apology: it was _maturity_. Nervous fidgeting nature aside, there was something to be said for the fact that he was willing to apologize like this. Even though Jack could tell that everything in Tucker's speech, especially the beginning, had begun with some prompt from a talking-to from his father, there was also no denying that much of what he said had come from the heart. It was peppered quite heavily in his voice and was written in almost charming detail on his face. The blush at Jack's peal of laughter just served to augment it. The noise subsided quickly, though.

"I'm sorry," said Jack, thinking of a cover-up "I just didn't know your middle name was 'Ponsomby'." He kept his smile, but made it into a more sincere smile. "I've done some growing up, too. Took me the round-about way to get there, though." He held out his hand, and from then on a childish rivalry was dead. A year can do a lot to change people, even two boys, for what followed after this forging of a new friendship from the ashes of a defunct sour relationship…was simple small-talk.

"So what was with that 'what ho' you greeted me with?"

"Oh, it's from this book I'm reading." Tucker produced a small volume from his pocket. "It's called The Mating Season. I really only bought it because I thought it was a dirty book. No such luck. Funny as hell, though."

So Tucker had matured in more than one way, it seemed. The closest Jack had ever come to thinking about girls was the literal "mind centering on a person who was female" because the person in question was Kieu, and she had been talking to him. He'd never thought about girls in _that_ way before.

"Oh?" said Jack. "What's it about?"

"Well," said Tucker "It's about this dimwitted rich bloke who has to switch places with a friend of his who likes newts, and there's all this insanity with girls they're engaged to and crazy aunts and…"

Jack's concentration was broken by an unexpected sight. While Tucker babbled on about his book, Pauline and Bruce strode swiftly into an adjoining room together. They seemed to be talking about something rather heated and important. Whatever it was, it was big enough that they took no notice of the two boys, talking over each other, even. Pauline looked distressed and Jack couldn't tell if Bruce's attitude was one of reassurance or insistence.

Next thing he knew, they were lip-locked.

"…I mean, with all the agony this chap has to go through with women, it's a wonder he hasn't started shagging his manservant." Tucker looked up to see Jack standing completely agape, eyes the size of something quite closely resembling dinner plates. "What is it?"

"…Your dad's snogging my mum."

What happened next happened in too short a span of time for Jack to believe that he could only remember it in slow motion.

First, there was the scream. His father's scream. That vocal explosion of rage often associated with discovering your spouse engaging in illicit behavior with someone else. Laden with alcohol, the physical accompaniment was bound to be more extreme than usual.

Then, there was the running. Jack didn't know what could have possibly compelled his legs to dash him _towards_ his father, especially his father drunk and on the warpath, except a desire to protect his mother. To _defend_ something instead of trying to destroy it, especially if the object to be defended was the object that had previously tried to provide defense.

Finally, there was the smash. The beer bottle…or was it wine? He couldn't tell…wielded by his enraged father, presumably aimed at his mother or Bruce, came crashing down upon his head with a violent _CRACK_.

And with the falling of broken glass and broken son, the evening ended.

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_Yeah, I made an indirect _Jeeves and Wooster _reference. It's kinda my obsession right now. Again, no idea when I'll update this again, but I WOULD certainly love to finish it!_


	8. The Sudden Surprise of Reverend Fox

_It's official: this fic will now update annually so I can keep presenting installments to my mom's writer's group (we have a spring barbecue where we share readings and this has been my contribution for the past several years). Also, as of this chapter, I think I can officially say that Reverend Fox is my favorite character. Seriously, he's just so much fun to write. Everyone except Jack is mine, even Bruce Wayne (because he's not THAT Bruce Wayne). Well, I've kept you waiting long enough! Enjoy the fic._

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As Jack regained slowly regained consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was movement. He himself wasn't moving, but he was on, or in, something that was. He tried to further gather his thoughts.

_Pain…in the head…hit…break…_

…_angry…father…mum…Bruce…snogging…what…why would they…_

_ …seat…sitting…moving…car…ambulance? No noise…_

_ …Hello? I'm here…must let them know…I'm here…_

Jack attempted to speak which, in his dazed state, came out as a low incoherent noise. More like a glorified mumble than the word "mum."

"Jack? Oh, Jack, thank goodness…Bartholomew, he's coming to!"

"Excellent. We'll be there in just a few minutes, Pauline."

Bartholomew? Hearing his chauffeur's name and voice (and why was he addressing his mother by her first name?) plus the aforementioned movement made things finally click in Jack's mind. He was indeed in the family car with his mother and they were being driven somewhere in a hurry. Jack felt slightly sticky around his face and hair, mostly likely the remnants of whatever alcoholic beverage was in that bottle which Earnest had brought crashing down upon his head…how long ago? Minutes? Hours? But time was not the issue at hand.

"Mum, where are we going?" he asked. Pauline, her arm wrapped protectively around her son, was looking more distraught and serious than Jack had ever seen her. She furrowed her eyebrows in a distinctly mother-with-a-made-up-mind way and turned her head to look him straight in the face.

"Jack, listen to me," she said, the urgency in her tone coming out quite clearly "We can't go back to the house. Your father's beaten you countless times in the past, but never _ever_ in front of guests before. We couldn't stay there, not after that."

"We're going to pay my brother a visit over at the church," said Bartholomew. "He's a man of God. He'll know what to do. Also we can lay low there until you two can figure out what you're going to do next. Leave, call out the old blighter, whatever works. Oh, and I apologize for speaking so crassly now. Your mother said that this was no time for formalities." Jack was still trying to process everything.

"What happened?" he said. "I remember getting hit by a glass bottle from dad and then…"

"…You fell to the floor and your father tried to reach for another bottle. Bruce jumped in and tried to restrain him, since he's never believed in beating boys, and a brawl broke out between them. Under the cover of all the chaos, I took you out of the parlor and called immediately for Bartholomew to get the car…"

"…We're here!" Bartholomew brought the car to a halt and leapt out of the front seat, rushing back to get his passengers' door. The three of them made their way around to the back of the church where Reverend Fox made his small, modest residence. Bartholomew rapped at the door. "Big Barty! It's your dear baby brother! I've brought a couple of stray lambs in desperate need of a shepherd." Had the situation been less serious, Jack would have laughed. The sound of shuffling footsteps (possibly irritated, possibly just quick, there was no good way to tell) made their way from the depths of the interior towards the door. It opened to reveal an indignant-looking Reverend Bartimeus Fox, robed in his evening prayer gown, and about to cut himself off mid-sentence.

"For Heaven's sake, Bartholomew, kindly do _not_ address me as such in front of my charges…oh. Jack, Mrs. Merridew, whatever brings you here at this time of night?"

"We're terribly sorry for intruding, Reverend, but we needed somewhere to go," said Pauline. "Earnest has gotten…worse." Reverend Fox's face went from priestly inquiry to fatherly concern in a second. He opened the door wider.

"Come in, all of you," he said, ushering them inside. "Tell me everything."

Jack had been in Reverend Fox's office many times before, but never in his actual living quarters. The clergyman led a simple life, walls unadorned except for a portrait of Christ and a clock. The furnishings consisted of only a bed, a dresser and a chair, all of which were accordingly non-elaborate. The setting would have seemed lonely and dreary had it not been for the lamplight, which carried a mysterious intrinsic calming warmth that filled the room. Reverend Fox gestured to the bed where Jack and Pauline sat down. Bartholomew moved off to dig around for a cold compress while his brother pulled up his chair and prepared to listen intently. Pauline relayed the events of the evening. Reverend Fox knitted his brow. Bartholomew returned with the compress as they were finishing and handed it to Jack who held it to the sore spot on his scalp.

"Most troubling," said Reverend Fox. "But I still don't understand _why_. It's perfectly natural for a father to want to raise his son with a firm hand but…attacking him in a drunken rage in front of dinner guests? I simply don't…"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Jack blurted out. "You've just answered your own question, Reverend! He's a drunken taskmaster who always has to get what he wants! He's just _like_ that! I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can accomplish that 'mission' of yours." There was silence except for Jack trying to catch his breath after his outburst. He wasn't sure if he'd meant to explode quite like that, but the situation seemed to call for it. All eyes were on him, and finally he muttered "…sorry," again.

Then something clicked. Something was missing.

"Wait a moment," he said, before turning to Pauline. "Mum, you forgot to mention to Reverend Fox that dad tried to attack you because you were _snogging Mr. Wayne_." Another significant silence. Reverend Fox's hands seem to have decided they were holding an invisible teacup and saucer solely to be dropped at an instance like this. Non-existent china shattered on the floor.

"MRS. MERRIDEW!" he gasped loudly, eyes the size of the aforementioned imaginary saucer. "You mean to say you've been having _an extramarital affair outside of your marriage?_" Pauline looked still, but turmoil raged beneath the surface, visible through her eyes.

"One kiss between old friends does _not_ count as an affair," she said. "Now, were we having…_relations_…"

"You're having RELATIONS?"

"NO! Reverend, if you would _please let me explain!_" Pauline heaved a deep shuddering sigh that seemed to be echoing the weight of the world that sagged on her shoulders, and had been for some time. She took another moment to collect herself, before saying "Jack…there's something I've never told you about your father…a lot of things really. Reverend, perhaps this will answer your questions about my husband's particularly brutal behavior." She took another deep breath and began her story:

"When Earnest, Bruce, and I were at university together, Earnest and I were dating. He seemed like such a strong young man, one who would go out of his way to protect a woman. In those war times, a girl needed to feel secure. But Bruce was his best friend, and he was so much more _naturally_ kind. Earnest's…well, earnestness came from his code of proper bearings as a respectable young gentleman. Bruce's came from the heart. I often wondered whether I should become betrothed to him and not Earnest. One night in our final year…oh we both must've had a little too much to drink…Bruce confessed that he loved me most dearly and…that was the night that Jack was conceived."

"_You engaged in…PRE-MARITAL INTERCOURSE?_"

Jack barely even heard Reverend Fox's cry of absurdity over the explosions in his own head. Not from the throbbing pain in his skull, but from his mind. Everything was beginning to fall into place. But why was it still so hard to believe when it made so much sense? Perhaps because it wasn't every day that one learns that one's heritage is a lie. After a fierce but shaken "_Kindly let me finish_," Pauline went on…

"Naturally I couldn't tell Earnest what had happened, so when I said I was pregnant he naturally assumed it was his. But somewhere along the line he _must_ have at least _suspected_ the truth. He and Bruce began falling out in the later months and after we got married he started to become the wolf in sheep's clothing we know him as today. He still lives near Bruce so he can keep as close an eye as he can on him, trying to catch him in the act making motions towards me. He never speaks a word of it, but he drinks himself blind and despises me and Jack because, deep down, he _knows_ that Jack is not his son."

Out of all the questions that possibly could've been asked at this momentous juncture, and of all the people to ask it, Bartholomew chimed in with "And do you still love Bruce?" Somewhere off in the dark of the night, maybe many miles away, a pin dropped.

"Yes. Absolutely."


End file.
